Rikudo
by Toph the Trickster
Summary: History was always clear to everyone that took the time to learn: the Sage of the Six ways was the founder of the Ninjutsu and introduced the art to the whole continent. Power was determined by ability in combat and this decided which nations held power. But that isn't all; so many unforeseeable factors will determine the ultimate fate of the Ninja World.


It's been two years since my last update on this site, and I've long since fallen inactive from fic writing. A lot of this has actually been because of irl-related things like transferring schools and getting more and more busy.

This is a new spin on an old piece. If most of you still recall, _Prince of Rain_ is something I started almost five years ago. I had still been in high school at the time and very, very inexperienced in writing.

Anyway, this is just a prologue and this piece won't be updated for a long time, what with my major revisions to the plot to such the point that I need to make an outline to work properly.

To old readers: welcome back, and to new readers: I hope you find what you're looking for in this work.

To all of you: Enjoy.

Sincerely,

_**Toph the Trickster**_

* * *

**Prologue:**

**The Return**

The wind rushed past her as she moved through the path. The branches hung low and the leaves brushed against her cloak. Had she been anywhere else in the continent those same leaves would be bronze and falling to the ground whenever she touched them; however, in the Land of Fire that would not be the case as the country was locked in an eternal summer.

Behind her she could hear the stomp of hooves – her student was struggling to keep up with her. She wouldn't stop, however. She knew that he would catch up to her eventually – he was familiar enough with the territory to do so, but she did not have the time to delay. Even now she could feel how hotter it was than usual, how the chilling autumn air from the other lands of the continent should still be flooding into the country. She charged onwards without relent, only her thoughts of the contents of the letter inside her coat pocket driving her forward after riding since before the sun rose that day.

When she arrived at the top of the overlook to see the village – where the wooden giants that surrounded her finally abated to the endless expanse of night – she felt the air leave her lungs.

The fires were still burning.

A ring of red and orange light surrounded the now-charred looking ruins of Konohagakure and spread out. The tall trees she had been riding under were older than she was. She learned this from those that taught her and here she was looking as a good kilometer from the village center was little more than the thickest column of smoke she had ever seen surrounded by fires that she was sure had been burning for the past few days.

She stared on and imagined how things could have fallen apart like this, how long the peace that had blanketed the continent had suddenly degenerated into the misfortunes that befall her over the last few weeks. It was as she remembered these things that she found the will to spur her horse to ride down the road before her, the banner she was holding up clutched tight in her hand and held high for all to see.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she could see the masks of ANBU agents looking at her through the trees. She knew they would not stop her; the letter had told her that they would not stop her and anyone she might have been bringing with her for as long as they saw the symbol stamped upon the banner. She found herself wondering how people would feel to see the flag she was carrying or if it would be recognized by anyone at all.

The wind continued to rush past her, her scarlet cloak fluttering in the wind as she listened and watched. Behind her she heard her student follow, no longer calling her name and content to follow behind his teacher. In front of her she saw the wall of fire grow larger, closer, until she could see each individual tree burning and the futile attempts of the ninja and civilians to put out the fires. Some of them looked at her as she passed. Would any of them recognize her? Remember her and the life she left behind here?

She didn't think so.

Past the ring of fire she went, the cries of orders and calls for help fading in the background as she crossed the charred remains of great woods and elderly trees, little plumes of smoke rising from their burned corpses to mingle with the greater, more ominous being that rose to the sky to mark Konohagakure's greatest failure.

Konoha's walls were black and damaged beyond recognition, the smoke rising from it creating a true wall that seemed to turn all else away with a warning. Could there still be fires plaguing the village even now days after the attack? She brought her collar up and placed part of her cloak there to block out the worst of the particles that was beginning to saturating the air and – with her eyes closed and her heart hardened in preparation of what she was about to see – she crossed the barrier of smog.

Regardless of her seeing of the worst of warfare and her travels all across the continent, what she saw inside the smoke still managed to appear to her as one of the worst things she had ever seen: The world seemed to have lost all its color, the smoke and ash still permeating the air with such thickness that she had to squint to keep any of it from getting into her eyes. Houses that were once cream with red terra cotta tiles were now black and gray and crushed into debris and dust. She saw circles of men and women gathered around piles of ruin and attempting to dig – possibly searching for survivors that she knew were not there.

A part of her heart told her to stop her horse, to dismount and go to the people lying on the ground bathed in ash and to heal them and tend to their needs; it was child in her that had wanted to help people and do everything she could for them – even when they could no longer be saved. The majority of her heart, however, told her that those people were already dead and that there was no point in comforting or helping a corpse. She was in this gods-forsaken village again because she was commanded there, and she would see to her duties before she would go down and do what she could to help, provided she found it in herself later on to do so.

She gripped her banner tighter and straightened her arm just a little bit as she resumed her pace – she had been caught in a moment of weakness and had, indeed, stopped. She recognized the gasp and the expletive she heard somewhere behind her as her student's and didn't bother to look back. He would follow. She had no time to tend to his heart right now, and it was better that he got used to seeing this; great things were expected of him by the House and he would have to see to those duties.

Things didn't get any better the closer to the center of the village she went. The crunching of scattered bones under the hooves of her horse was enough to tell her that. The area only got flatter, the scorch marks more pronounced, and the cries of people even louder. There weren't any fires remaining, however, just smoldering piles of embers and ash that were the result of what was possibly days of burning.

Konoha had truly been devastated by this.

Upon arriving at what appeared to her as the center of the village, she spared no more time looking at what exactly the people were doing and made a straight dash for the mountain, the same mountain the Hokage Monument was carved on. She wouldn't be scaling the cliff with her horse so she rode north when she was close enough, searching out the road that would lead her up it. She was glad to know the mountain remained largely untouched by the destruction, any dark patches ending before touching the outermost tree of the mountain's woods. It was its own world, Monument Mountain, even before everything entering that place was like leaving everything behind and going to a place she would never find elsewhere.

The old cobblestone path leading through the mountain face was the same as it was years ago during her last visit. The hooves of her horse clacking on it as she continued the sprint up; she might have been breathing easier now but she still couldn't slow her pace. She couldn't remember how she made her way through exactly, just that she followed the path that she always had whenever she was coming by and soon she found herself rushing through the estate's open gates and straight through the grounds, no longer bothering to look at what might have changed she was last her.

When she finally found it in her to allow her poor mount to stop the unrelenting charge it had begun early that day when she started, she was standing in front of the building she was ordered to arrive at.

And no matter how many times she would close her eyes and expect it to be different – different like the village and the country was undoubtedly different when she passed through it – she could not find anything that conflicted with the memory of the house in her mind. The same stone walls, the same double doors with bronze doorknobs, the same windows lit with the exact same lights as it did all those years ago when she first came here. Truly the mountain was its own world and not even a great tragedy that befell Konoha could change it.

She was standing in front of the door with the banner still held tightly in her right hand, her horse was lying on the ground in exhaustion – it would probably have to be put down tomorrow. Behind her, her student dropped from his horse with a strangled gasp and something about resting. She wasn't sure as she had not been paying him much attention.

When the door opened, however, she started paying close attention to things again. And when she saw who was standing at the door, she dropped to one knee and bowed her head in respect.

"Come in." Was all he said before he turned back into the golden light of the main hallway. From inside the building, he continued: "There is much work to be done, Niece."


End file.
